White walls, the halls,
And my despair.
I see no meaning in the air.
The fear comes
To me just like a blue fire,
I can't resist this coulorful desire.
Run away, little dreamer.
Your muse's dead, you cannot save her.
And your creationgs are so incomplete
Like there is someone you can feel but cannot meet.
I'll make them know a meaning of sorry,
My little dead muse, don't you worry.
I'm different shade of white,
I'm darkness, while they're being light.
That colour tears apart inside
My heart, my veins, black-blooded tide.
I am an artist, trying explain own final end,
Coming from place that people always call the Neverland.